


Unlovable

by Bobbadopolous



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:21:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobbadopolous/pseuds/Bobbadopolous
Summary: Michael after the events of 1x03 and a theory about his injured hand.





	1. Chapter 1

People seemed to have this expectation that life should be good and so they chased their own happiness as though it was owed to them. 

Michael didn’t have that in him, he didn’t expect things to be good, he didn’t chase the  
things that made him happy. He had made an art of just getting by… getting through one moment with the sole purpose of moving onto the next and repeating the process.

When Alex walked away Michael wasn’t even surprised. In truth he had been expecting it, nothing good lasted forever, that’s not the way the world worked.

He knew he sounded sorry for himself but he wasn’t really. It was a simple truth that he had learned long ago and that had been reinforced many times throughout his life. So many times that it now formed a core belief he had about himself – that he was, in fact, unlovable. 

Michael caught a glimpse of himself in the wing mirror as he slammed the car door shut, and saw the degenerate no-hoper the rest of the world saw when they looked at him.  
He looked every bit like a man who had given up and maybe he had. Maybe he’d worked out a long time ago that personal betterment wasn’t really in his best interest, in fact it was a fucking waste of time.

Even on his best days … those last days of high school when he’d been named dux of the class, been madly in love (even if he wasn’t ready to call it that) and so full of potential that the sky wasn’t even the limit, there hadn’t been anyone there to claim him. No proud parents in the audience at graduation no beaming boyfriend taking his hand. Instead there had been a drunk foster father passed out on the couch when he got home, no doubt celebrating the fact that he would soon be rid of Michael and a text message from Alex apologising for the fact he wouldn’t be able to see him that night because his dad had invited some friends around for an impromptu get together that apparently Michael wasn’t welcome at.

In the beginning Michael hadn’t understood why the world treated him so differently to his pseudo siblings. Max and Isobel were smart and they were praised for it, the people around them listened to what they had to say, trusted their decisions and allowed them their choices. But it didn’t work that way for Michael, his brain was often seen as a fault by his foster parents, his desire to learn was inconvenient and when he tried to use his brain to solve a problem he was a smart arse or a trouble maker.

He used to be confused but he wasn’t any more. The problem wasn’t what he did or said it was him. There was something fundamentally wrong with him. Mr and Mrs Evans had seen it in the group home when they’d left him behind, every person he’d been passed around since had seen it and he had always known that it was only a matter of time before Alex saw it too. 

Michael sat in the car, a feeling of profound loss weighing heavily upon him. Previous experience had taught him that it would lessen in time, that he’d find some way to survive it just as he had done every other time the universe had dropped him on his arse. He was the proverbial cockroach, well adapted to survive unbelievable punishment and just as detested by the rest of society. It would suck and it would leave a mark but that was the world as he knew it and expected it to be.

No, Michael wasn’t stupid enough to get out of the car and go after Alex, he didn’t believe in chasing happiness because he truly believed that it wasn’t meant for him. 

But Michael hadn’t always been this way, he’d been a dumb kid once. A dumb kid who, ten years ago, had tried to chase his happiness all the way to Baghdad.

Of course Max hadn’t been on-board with the whole, ‘Michael joins the air force’ plan and it was difficult for Michael to put together a solid argument when he couldn’t tell Max why it was suddenly so important to him.

When Michael had told him about his plans to join up, Max had been his usual self, which is to say a forty-year-old man stuck in a teenager’s body.

“Michael you can’t take your powers into a war zone …you can’t control them”  
“Michael how would you even pass the medical exam?”  
“Michael you can’t stand taking orders, why the hell would you want to join the military?”

All annoyingly valid points but still, Michael was a genius and he was fairly certain he could figure it out. He just knew, with a ferocious kind of certainty, that his place was with Alex and everything else was just details. 

He’d tried to explain that it was about access to technology and military satellites and just generally a way to advance their understanding of their own existence but none of it really rang true because it wasn’t. He wanted to go with Alex plain and simple. And since Alex had been brainwashed by his father into following in the family footsteps, Michael was determined to stand beside him, confident that they could survive anything if they were together.

Max and Michael had fought about it but at the end of the day the decision had been Michael’s and he had made it. 

Max went quiet but he never stopped worrying. 

Michael was resolute in his decision and even though he was not looking forward to the training and certainly not to actual combat he enjoyed the power he had to make a decision.  
For so much of his life he had had to go where people had put him and survive whatever he found there. He had been constantly dealing with the consequences of decisions that he had no power to make. Even if his misadventure into the military proved to be the worst mistake of his life at least he’d made it, he would accept those consequences because they were his.

But… as so often was the case for Michael, his best laid plans had come undone at the hands of another.

It had been a bad argument, the worst he had experienced, at least in that home. He couldn’t even remember how it started, just the same old crap as usual. 

“Lazy freeloading good for nothing…”

“I’m out of here in a week, I’m leaving your sorry arse behind and I am gonna’ make something of my self, you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Where are you gonna go, huh? Who’d want you – you’re damaged goods, boy.”

Michael didn’t much believe in regrets or playing do-over but if he had his time again he’d have walked out right then. He’d have ignored the anger that built inside him at the word ‘boy’ dripping with disdain coming from his foster father’s lips, he’d have walked away, gone somewhere and destroyed something that wasn’t his future. 

Instead he stood there and told the man in front of him exactly where he was going and what he was going to do.  
Michael still to this day, doesn’t know why. Was he expecting the other man to be proud or disparaging? Was he so screwed up that he picked one last fight just to make the prospect of walking away from this monster easier? Was he so broken that he needed to be kicked out because he couldn’t leave on his own?

Whatever the reason he couldn’t have been prepared for the response.

…

Michael had known it was bad, had known that the pain he felt was infinitely greater than any he had felt before… and he had felt plenty. 

Michael had refused to look at the damaged hand, wrapped unceremoniously in an old t-shirt that he’d managed to grab as he fled the trailer. He didn’t need to see it. He knew it was bad. 

He’d grabbed his phone from his back pocket with his uninjured hand and called the one person he knew would help him, could help him.

Max had answered the phone after a couple of rings.

“I need you,” was all Michael could say, shock stopping him from elaborating further. He didn’t need to, it wasn’t the first time Max had got a call like that.

“I’ll come get you,” Max had said and Michael had been grateful that he’d understood. “Where are you?”

“Just around the corner from the park, that old gas station.”

“I’m on my way.”

Michael had wanted to say ‘hurry’ but pride had stopped him.

Michael was snapped out of his thoughts and brought back to the present by the sound of his phone ringing. Looking at the screen, he cringed as the name Max appeared on the screen the fingers of his good hand instinctively moving across their misshapen counterparts.

Speak of the devil, he thought.

Michael let the phone go to voicemail, there was no way he was in the mood to sit through another Max Evans lecture tonight. He did want to ask him some questions though.

Michael had never quite believed Max, when he’d said he couldn’t heal his hand completely. He had taken away the pain and prevented infection but had left behind deformed fingers and flame-puckered skin. Michael found it a little too coincidental that the injury Max couldn’t heal was the injury that prevented him from joining the air force against Max’s wishes.

Michael hadn’t wanted these doubts but they had settled in him and never left and when Max had resurrected Liz it had all but confirmed it. 

Michael had been holding onto the anger for a long time and he had learned to live with it as he had done all the other disappointments in his life. Even his most trusted friend hadn’t had enough faith in him to allow him to make a decision for himself, too afraid that Michael would stuff it up like he always did because at the end of the day Max saw in Michael the same thing everyone else did – the reason he was so unlovable.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Alex talk it out.  
> Fair warning, it's rough and it got a little cheesier than intended.

It was a couple of days after the drive-in incident before Michael saw Alex again.

Michael was hunched over the bar at the Wild Pony, already more than a few drinks into his night and starting to feel pleasantly numb.

Alex waltzed in about 11, he was there to keep Maria company on a slow night.  
He settled himself down at the opposite end of the bar to Michael, looking him up and down in silence. Michael could practically feel the disapproval coming off him in waves.

Part of Michael wished Alex wasn’t there to see him in his role as the town drunk at the same time another part was thinking “Fuck it” what you see is what you get. He wasn’t looking for Alex Mane’s approval. He was only being what Alex already thought he was, living up to his expectations as a total waste of space.

He sat there resolutely, determined not to be affected by the other man’s presence before deciding it wasn’t worth it and getting up to leave, stumbling slightly as he went.

Alex followed him out.

“What do you want Manes?” he asked once they were out in the car park and away from prying ears.

Alex looked uncertain “You driving?” he asked.

“Yeah well, I thought I’d leave the flying to you Airman,” Michael said, channelling all his efforts into appearing aloof while clamping down on the part of his brain made soft and fuzzy by alcohol, that threatened to say too much.

“You’re drunk,” Alex stated simply and to Michael it sounded like an accusation. 

“Ah, must be Tuesday,” he retorted nonchalantly.

Alex gave Michael a look that said he was not amused. He paused, staring silently, brow furrowed as though trying to solve a puzzle.

“I don’t get it Guerin,” he said after a moment, “What happened to you?”

Immediately Michael felt that familiar sense of shame, as he looked at himself through Alex’s eyes but he refused to let it show. Instead he allowed anger to flare in his belly overshadowing the embarrassment.  
He was the Michael Guerin that the world created and now it didn’t want to look at him because he was ugly and inconvenient. Well too bad, it reaped what it sowed.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment,” Michael replied bitterly, “but you see, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

There was a moment where the two simply stared at each other. Michael didn’t know what Alex expected him to say, he knew what the drunk, stupid part of his brain wanted to say but he also knew he couldn’t say it. Alex had rejected him, he didn’t owe him anything anymore, certainly not answers about the last ten years.

“No, you don’t,” Alex finally conceded, “But you can’t drive like this.”  
And something in his face softened, was it pity? Michael hoped not, that’d be worse than the disappointment.

“Well then I guess I’m walking,” Michael said turning a little unsteadily, ready for the conversation to be over.

“It’s miles, let me give you a ride.”

Michael paused with his back to Alex, “Nah,” he said turning to face him again, “I’m not falling for that one again.”  
“Huh?” Alex asked confused.

And right then, that was the moment that Michael lost the battle with himself to keep things aloof. Was Alex really so oblivious to the way their relationship worked, the way it had always worked, with Alex calling the shots and Michael taking whatever piecemeal opportunity was on offer?

“Come on Alex, you know how it goes. You offer me a ride, we get to my place, it’s late, dark, no one around to see you slumming it, you think what the hell, right? The sex is always amazing.”

Michael watched as Alex got more and more uncomfortable and it fuelled him to continue.

“Then the morning comes, you wake up next to me and you feel shame. You make excuses and you leave.”

“That’s not how…” Alex began.

“Yeah it is,” Michael challenged, “You want to know how I feel when I wake up next to you?”  
Alex didn’t answer and suddenly he was avoiding Michael’s eyes but Michael continued anyway.

“Like I’m home, like everything’s going to be okay. How pathetic is that?” Michael asked staring at Alex like he wanted an answer. He was scared now, he’d said too much, he didn’t like being this vulnerable, it was a mistake but he couldn’t stop.

“And its weird right? Cos I never had a home, so how would I even know what that feels like? Except I do … because of you.”

“Michael…” Alex started but Michael cut him off again, he didn’t want to hear it right now. 

“Nah, you don’t have to say anything. I got it loud and clear the other night. I’m not the kind of guy you take home to daddy.”

“You could be if you wanted to be, you could literally be anything you wanted,” Alex challenged finding his voice, “if you stopped drinking to kill all those genius brain cells and actually used them to do something with your life.”

Alex looked a little shocked at himself as he waited for Michael to respond. If he was expecting more self-righteous anger from Michael, he didn’t get it.

“So all I have to do to be with you is not be me?” Michael asked and it felt like the truth.

“No,” Alex said closing his eyes and running a hand over his face, seemingly frustrated. “Just be the you I know is under all that bullshit swagger.”

Michael huffed out a laugh completely devoid of any humour, “that easy, huh?” 

He felt he had more to say but the flame in his belly had gone out giving him the clarity to think better of it, “You know what forget it. I’m way too wasted to have this conversation.”

“If we have to wait until your sober to have this conversation it’s never going to happen.”

“It’s better that way, believe me,” Michael said suddenly exhausted and just wanting to be unconscious.

“Better than what?” Alex asked and when Michael lifted his face to look at him Alex’s face had changed, he no longer looked angry or indignant or even disappointed. He just looked, curious and maybe a little concerned.

Michael knew he should turn and walk away without saying anything further but the fight had gone out of him and left only the drunk, sloppy brain that wanted to tell Alex everything.

“Better than knowing what’s really under all this bullshit swagger,” was the answer.  
“There’s no well-adjusted genius hiding under here Manes,” he said gesturing at his unkempt appearance, “The mess you see is the mess you get. You’ve got to stop looking for something more, you’re just going to be disappointed.”

“That’s bullshit!” Alex shot back.

“Then you’re seeing something that isn’t there,” Michael said earnestly.

“Maybe I’m seeing something that you aren’t,” Alex replied, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

Michael knew Alex was wrong, was certain of it.

Alex sighed wondering how could someone so incredibly smart could be so incredibly clueless, “Look it’s late, will you just let me drive you home? Just a lift, that’s all?”

Michael’s pride wanted to say Hell No! and walk all the way back to the airstream but his body knew he wouldn’t make it that far. He could rock up at Isobel’s again, she was only a few blocks away, but he thought three nights in one week was probably a little much.

He ran through the options in his head and even through the booze induced haze he knew getting into Alex’s car made sense.

“Fine, but we are done with the talking,” Michael said flatly.

“Okay,” Alex agreed.

…

Alex certainly hadn’t expected his night to turn out the way it had. A very drunk and soon to be regretful Michael Guerin passed out in the passenger seat of his truck.

Everything that had been said and a few things that hadn’t, were replaying in his mind. 

The fact that he was Michael’s sense of home stood out among them.  
He thought back through all their interactions, seeing them for the first time from Michael’s perspective. 

Michael had always been a solid wall, built throughout a lifetime of neglect and mistreatment. It had been easy to ignore Michael’s feelings because he never let them show. Alex knew there had been times when he had taken advantage of that to make life easier and assuage his own guilt. He wasn’t proud of it and now he was being forced to own it. 

The truth was Michael thought he deserved so little because he had consistently been given so little. There were plenty of people to share the blame around but most of them never professed to love Michael or missed him when he was gone. Alex was different, he’d wanted him around, which must’ve been novel for Michael. But then Alex would go cold because he thought his dad suspected something or that his friends were catching on and Michael was rejected again only this time it was by someone he respected, even loved.  
When the people who loved you didn’t even want you around, what’s a person left to think? 

There had undoubtedly been a massive failure to communicate but before he could work out what had to happen to make it right he was pulling into the junkyard and up to the familiar airstream. Michael was woken by the motion of the car braking. He came to so suddenly and clear-headedly that Alex wondered if he had ever really been asleep or just faking it to save them the awkwardness of sitting in the mess their words had created.

Alex was struck by a sense of urgency. He couldn’t let Michael get out of the care without saying his peace.

“I owe you an apology,” he said carefully, knowing Michael was trying to avoid another heart to heart and unsure of how the words would land.

“I don’t want it,” Michael said his face carefully hiding any emotion, the impenetrable wall of Michael back in place.

“Too bad,” Alex said using the cars internal locking system to delay Michael’s exit. Michael could easily still get out if he wanted to and Alex wouldn’t stop him but he wanted to emphasise how much he needed Michael to hear him.

When Michael sank back into the chair Alex knew he’d been given a chance. Just the one, and he was unlikely to get another.

“All those mornings when I left,” Alex said fighting the urge to look at his feet, he knew for this apology to mean anything he had to face the pain in Michael’s eyes and take his share of the responsibility for it. “That wasn’t about you.”

Michael sat stone faced and unmoving but he didn’t get out of the car.

“That shame is mine, not yours. Mine for not being able to stand up to my dad, for not having the guts to go after what I really wanted, for not being brave like you.”

Michael scoffed at the word brave.

“You never cared what anyone thought of us but it terrified me.”

“It’s easy not to care what people think, when no one’s thinking about you,” Michael said surprising Alex with his response, “It’s not bravery when you have nothing to lose. If I had a family I would’ve hidden any truth to keep it. I always understood that.”

“I thought you did,” Alex said, “but now I’m realising that it made you feel not good enough, not worth enough for me to risk anything for you.”

Michael looked away. Alex had been to a lot of shrinks following his injury and he knew it wasn’t easy hearing your deepest, darkest thoughts coming from someone else’s mouth. It wasn’t easy for Michael to be understood.

“But I was just a dumb, scared kid and keeping our secret was the only way I knew how to keep you close to me,” Alex said finally, “I wish I was more like you back then. You would’ve blown up your whole life, gotten kicked out of another foster home, gone to war with my dad, dared the world to disapprove.”

Michael’s face softened as he remembered the kid he’d been back then. Alex was painting a fairly accurate picture.

“I’m sorry Michael.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Alex's apology

“I’m sorry Michael.”

Michael’s face was completely unreadable, not because there was no emotion there but rather because there seemed to be every emotion fighting for dominance.

“Come inside with me,” he said finally, surprising Alex with the request.

“I thought you didn’t want that.”

“Are you coming or not?” Michael asked getting out of the car and setting a quick pace to the airstream.

Alex paused for a moment confused, but who was he kidding? Of course he was going to go after him. He was pretty sure it would be taking advantage of the situation to sleep with Michael now but he wasn’t ready to be apart from him either.

When he entered the trailer Michael was pacing up and down seemingly at war with himself. Alex simply leant against the wall by the entrance and waited for the outcome of Michael’s internal debate.

Eventually Michael looked up at him through his lashes, which usually drove Alex crazy in all the right ways, but there was so much anxiety and indecision there that Alex couldn’t enjoy it.

“Say something,” Michael said suddenly.

“You’re the one who invited me inside,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Why?” Alex asked.

“Because I think I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Oh God! You don’t have VD do you?” He asked adding a smile so Michael would know he was joking, lightening the mood was all he could think to do.

Michael sent him a withering glare that said perhaps his use of humour had been misguided.

“Okay so what is it then?” Alex asked racking his brains for possible answers.

“I can’t just say it,” Michael said returning to pacing.

“Would you prefer to use charades?” Alex asked, he couldn’t help himself. He was starting to feel nervous and when he was nervous snark was his weapon of choice.

Thankfully it appeared Michael hadn’t even heard the response.

“Should I just go?” Alex asked after a moment.

“No,” Michael said, sounding almost panicked at the prospect of Alex leaving.

“Okay,” Alex said, “but I can’t stand here all night, it’ll be hell on my leg. Can I?” he asked gesturing to Michael’s bed. Michael nodded so Alex took a seat.

“I have a question,” Alex said finally breaking the silence, hoping that if they just started talking maybe Michael would loosen up and find a way to say what he obviously wanted to say. “Tell me to mind my own business if you don’t want to answer, but I have to ask. Why didn’t you leave Roswell ten years ago?” 

Michael stared at Alex for a moment before simply saying, “I couldn’t.”

“Why? What was keeping you here?”

Once again Michael paused as though the answer was not immediately apparent to him either, “It’s hard to explain…,” he said finally.

“…and you don’t owe me an explanation,” Alex finished, misreading Michael’s hesitation.

“It’s not that,” Michael said, “It’s just… it didn’t feel like a choice.”

“You had more scholarship and admission offers than anyone else in the school, how is that not a choice?”

“It just wasn’t,” Michael said, he sighed and apparently decided to elaborate, “I had people I couldn’t leave behind.”

“You stayed for Max and Isobel Evans?” Alex asked incredulously, that didn’t make any kind of sense to him.  
The relationship between the trio was difficult for an outsider to understand. But you didn’t have to understand it to know that it was profound and deeply co-dependent.  
Still Alex strongly doubted that either of the Evans twins would’ve knowingly stood in the way of Michael pursuing his happiness. And it wasn’t like the two of them had been short of options either and yet here they were, ten years later, all still in Roswell, New Mexico.  
“I always thought Max would end up chasing Liz half way across the country,” Alex mused.

“He almost did,” Michael admitted.

“So what happened? You stayed for him, he stayed for you and you both stayed for Isobel? You do realise friends can stay in touch across state lines, right?”

“Funny, you never seemed to manage it,” Michael shot back.

The words struck a blow just as intended, “fair call,” Alex admitted before the pair lapsed into silence, Alex mulling over Michael’s answers or lack there of.

“And they’re not just friends,” Michael said finally.

“Yeah I know, they’re like family to you.”

“No, they ARE family to me,” Michael said and Alex could sense that they were getting closer to the mysterious truth Michael wanted to share. “When we were seven years old the three of us were found together, naked and mute wandering the desert.”

Alex hadn’t heard this part of the story before and he knew he was being gifted a rare insight into Michael Guerin. 

“They picked us up, took us to a group home and when no one came forward to claim us they tried to find us a new family.”

“I don’t get it,” Alex said thinking aloud, “If you were all together at the group home why did the Evans only adopt Max and Isobel.”

“You’d have to ask them,” Michael said shrugging in a way that suggested he’d spent a lot of time wondering that very same thing. “I guess I’ve never been as…” he paused to think of the right word, “normal as Max and Isobel. They just seemed to know how to put people at ease, whereas people found me unsettling.”  
Alex didn’t miss the way Michael said ‘people’ as though he didn’t consider himself to be one of them but there were so many other devastating things about his statement that he couldn’t focus on just that one.

“It was a while before I saw them again.”

Alex marvelled at the way Michael could tell the story with so little emotion when Alex found it so fucking tragic. He reached out a hand to rest on Michael’s forearm.

“I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me,” Michael said and there was a challenge in his eye. Alex knew the last thing Michael Guerin ever wanted was someone else’s pity so he shelved the deep desire to hug him and took back his hand … for the moment at least. Alex considered it to be tactical retreat.

“Why are you telling me this?” Alex asked, genuinely curious.

Michael shrugged, “Because you wanted to know why I stayed and they’re why. I always thought they’d be the only two people who ever understood me.”

Alex nodded, “I get that.”

“But they weren’t,” Michael continued unexpectedly, “There were things about me that you understood, that they never could.”

Alex was too shocked to respond.

“They always saw the world as being full of opportunity, where people were basically good and if you played by the rules everything worked out okay. They never understood why I couldn’t see it that way because the world treated me differently even if they didn’t.”

Michael looked up hesitantly, Alex knew it was hard for him to have shared this much and he wanted to be reassuring but he was also very aware that looking sympathetic at this point would be a mistake.

“Then there you were, with your emo hair and your skateboard and you agreed with me that life sucked and people were garbage. Suddenly I wasn’t alone.”

“Funny, that’s exactly how I felt about you too,” Alex said fondly.

Michael smiled, it was small and it was fleeting but it had happened, Alex was sure of it.

“I would’ve told you the truth then,” he said quietly, “if it had just been my secret to tell.”

“So why now?” Alex asked.

“Because I hate the way you look at me like I’m a stranger, when you’re the only person who ever really saw me as I was. I want you to understand who I am.”

Alex felt shame warm his cheeks as he thought about all the things he’d said to Michael since his return. It had been hypocritical of him to judge Michael for not leaving to chase his dreams when Alex himself had failed to do so.

“I still know who you are Michael,” Alex said, “It’s me I’ve lost sight of.”

“That’s kind of you to say but I think it’s fairly obvious that neither of us are living our best lives right now,” Michael admitted, “but maybe the truth can set us free.”

“And what is the truth?” Alex asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I’m an alien.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful comments and kudos.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a lot longer than expected to write.  
> I mean, how does one react to finding out a loved one is an alien?  
> This will be the last chapter I think, with this week's reveal we have drifted a long way from canon.

“I’m an alien.”

The next breath that Michael took came easier than any he had taken in the previous decade. That was it, the last lie between them was gone and he felt free. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there were going to be a lot of follow up questions and he was now facing true and honest rejection but he wasn’t hiding anymore.

Alex was experiencing something entirely different on his side of the conversation. His first instinct was to laugh, ‘yeah right Michael’ but he stopped himself.  
There had been something in Michael’s eyes as he’d said the words that convinced Alex it wasn’t a joke.  
At the same time Alex wasn’t exactly ready to just accept the presence of aliens in society as fact.  
A secondary thought was occurring to him also, the fact that two truths could simultaneously coexist. The first being that there was no such thing as aliens and the second being that Michael truly believed himself to be extra-terrestrial.  
Alex knew that Michael had always felt different, never really belonging to the world around him and he could certainly understand how a lonely, orphaned kid might imagine such an origin story.  
A world where parents didn’t leave their kids by choice, they were taken away in a fiery crash and where someone was always coming to save you, they were just coming from light years away.  
To hold onto that belief into adulthood, with an IQ as high as Michael’s …well that didn’t quite add up either.  
Way, way back in his mind another little voice was also talking… talking about weird symbols and unearthly objects hidden in walls.

This had all passed through his brain in a matter of seconds leaving him three possible conclusions. One; Michael was making a joke he didn’t understand, two; Michael was troubled and in need of professional help to process childhood trauma or three; Michael was telling the truth, aliens existed and Michael was one of them.  
Alex was very aware that Michael was staring at him and waiting for a reaction of some kind – short circuiting probably wasn’t what he was going for.

“Um…” Alex said slowly, “I’m going to need a little more information before I know how to feel about that.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Michael’s lips, “that’s fair enough.”

“So help me God, Michael if this is some kind of bad joke…”

“It’s not,” Michael said quickly.

“And when you say alien, you do mean…” Alex trailed off.

“Not from around here,” Michael finished for him shrugging like it was no big deal.

“But like, from space?” Alex asked incredulously like he couldn’t make the words make sense. He got up from where he was sitting on Michael’s bed, suddenly unable to sit still.

Michael watched him as he started moving around the cramped living space.

“You know I’ve never believed…” Alex said carefully as he paused at the other end of the airstream with his back to Michael.

“You’ve never had any reason to,” Michael replied, “…until now.”

Alex chuckled darkly, “I don’t know that I can just turn it on like that.”

“Maybe this will help,” Michael said and a beer appeared in Alex’s peripheral vision. 

He turned to take it from Michael only to find that the other man was still down the opposite end of the trailer and the beer was floating freely, mid air.

Alex looked between the seemingly demonically possessed bottle and Michael who raised his eyebrow in a ‘told you so’ kind of gesture.

“You got anything stronger?” Alex asked.

Michael laughed, “What do you think?” and the beer floated back down the length of the airstream and into Michael’s outstretched hand. He put it down on the bench and instead retrieved a glass from the dish strainer and a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the cupboard under the sink.

This time he walked up to Alex and handed him the drink.

“How did you do that?” Alex asked.

“Not sure,” Michael shrugged, “We didn’t exactly come with a user’s manual, it’s just something I can do.”

“We?” Alex asked before remembering their previous conversation about family, “Max and Isobel too?”

Michael nodded carefully.

“And they can…?” Alex asked indicating the beer, which just a minute ago had levitated toward him.

“Not exactly,” Michael said, “They’ve got their own tricks.”

There was a moment where Alex leant against the wall, drink in hand, and thought about everything he had known, or thought he had known about Michael up to that point.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Michael said staring at Alex as though reading his thoughts, causing Alex to briefly wondered if that was another super secret alien power he had, “but this doesn’t change as much as you think it does.”

Alex chuckled humourlessly.

“I’m serious,” Michael said hoping he could reassure Alex before his brain exploded, “I have lived as a human on this planet for my entire life.”

“And how long is that exactly?” Alex asked.

“As far as we know we’ve been here since the original crash but we were only really born twenty years ago,” Michael said encouraged by the fact that Alex had retained the ability to form full sentences. He wasn’t running or screaming, he was processing.

“How does that work?”

“Okay, so the next part is weird,” Michael warned him.

“Whereas everything you’ve said up to this point has been completely normal?” Alex interjected and it made Michael smile.

“We hatched from pods looking like seven-year-old kids.”

“No, you’re right, that is weirder,” Alex admitted and against all odds they were both smiling at each other. They stood for a long moment just staring at each other, Alex’s whole universe warping and shifting to accommodate this new truth and Michael just waiting patiently for the fallout.

“I have a million questions,” Alex said finally breaking the silence.

“Shoot,” Michael replied, he was bordering on overjoyed, which was dangerous territory for a life-time cynic to wander into. Michael knew that a fall from this height would be devastatingly painful but the view was worth the risk.

“Are there any more like you?” Alex asked.

“Not as far as we know,” Michael replied, “We think we were the only ones to survive the crash.”

Alex let that sink in for a moment, absorbing the reality of what that meant for Michael, Max and Isobel. No parents, no one to help them understand who they were, what they were or where they came from. Everything was just a guess or a theory, there were no absolutes.  
“That must’ve been very lonely … and confusing,” he said eventually, softly.

Michael shrugged in attempt to appear nonchalant but Alex knew those particular wounds cut deep.

“So how long have you been able to move stuff with your mind?” Alex asked, shifting gears to something less tragic.

“That started happening fairly early on,” Michael said, thinking back to the first time he’d sent something flying. His telekinesis had kicked in before he’d even mastered the English language. In fact, his frustration at not being able to communicate had led to many close encounters of the ornate lamp kind. “That’s why they kept me out the back when prospective parents came round the group home. No one wants a kid who breaks shit with their brain.”

Alex frowned, joining the dots. Michael, the freak, had been hidden away while Max and Isobel, the Stepford twins, had been farmed out to Roswell’s answer to the Cleavers.

Michael could read the look on Alex’s face, it was sympathy merging with pity and he was keen to head it off at the pass before Alex said something that might lead to tears. Whatever tragedy had occurred in Michael’s life prior to that moment, and let’s be honest it wasn’t a small amount, he was determined that tonight should be a celebration.

“All that’s ancient history now,” Michael said finally breaking the stillness, “You know what they say about spilt milk.”

Both Michael and Alex knew from experience that trauma wasn’t so easily shrugged aside but they were also both masters at ignoring it for moments in time.

“I’ve got to say, of all the things I thought you were gonna’ say tonight…” Alex said drifting off as he struggled to comprehend the sheer magnitude of his new reality.

“Do you wish I just had VD now?” Michael asked, eliciting a laugh from Alex.

“Definitely not.”

“Are you freaked out?” Michael asked and Alex could hear the hidden depths to the four small words.

Up to that point, Alex had been understandably preoccupied by the magnitude of the secret. Now, for the first time, he considered the courage and trust it had taken to share that secret. He knew what he said next was important, he didn’t want to give Michael a reason to regret telling him the truth.

He put down the untouched drink and lifted his hands to rest gently against the sides of Michael’s face, he drew Michael towards him until their foreheads rested together in the comfortingly familiar way they always had… and he finally answered the question.

“Yes,” He admitted “I am very freaked out right now… but I’m not going anywhere.”

He felt the muscles in Michael’s face relax and Michael’s arms looped around Alex’s waist and pulled him in closer.

“You’re amazing,” Michael whispered.

“Says the alien,” Alex whispered back and Michael chuckled softly.

“I never thought I’d get to do this,” Michael admitted pulling back from Alex slightly so he could look into his dark eyes.

“I’m glad you did,” Alex replied and it was the truth.

The kiss that followed was slow and deep.  
Michael could feel himself trembling slightly, at risk of being overcome by the moment. After all this was him being all of him, no secrets, no armour and this was Alex seeing him in his entirety and wanting him anyway. They had shared many moments of mutual understanding in the past but this was the most truthful their union had ever been.

“Stay,” Michael said finally, breaking the kiss and hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt, then deciding he didn’t care as long as Alex stayed.

Alex nodded and they fell into each other in a way that was all too familiar and at the same time entirely new.


End file.
